


Orphan One

by arcadiatriedbutfell (sotakeabitofcalpol)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst, Gallifrey, Introspection, Post-Orphan 55, The fam are mentioned I guess, but very very briefly, its a little late whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sotakeabitofcalpol/pseuds/arcadiatriedbutfell
Summary: At least, it’s orphan one in her head. A planet, ravaged by war? Something she’s seen before.Or; we never saw the aftermath of Orphan 55
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Orphan One

"Orphan 55 is Earth"

She looks at Yas and Graham's faces for a second. It's too painful. She looks away.

Really, this should be how she's feeling now. A planet, razed by war and fire? A little close to what's left of home.

She did this, didn't she? Back then? That moment, the moment, will haunt her dreams on the better nights. _Children running in a nightmare heat._

She runs through it; don't let it touch you, lock it up, they cannot see you break. (Are they what she's become? A creature, warped beyond recognition by time and war and forced adaptation?)

She lets them grieve, though. Delivers a speech about how it can change, even though she knows it won't. She's seen far too much of the worst of humanity to believe anymore.

They leave, go and sit and process what they've seen. She toys with the idea of erasing it. It'll hurt less. Distantly, she hears the smashing of a cup. Graham, probably. Difficult to hold something when your hands are shaking. She should go and help, go and help them through this.

Except she has no idea how to do that.

Besides, her feet are rooted to the spot where she bent over the console when they left. It's more of a slumped over it now. Wonderful. Seems her body has decided she can't run from it in any way anymore.

Her eyes are burning. She will not cry. She will not cry. She refuses to cry.

She doesn't cry.

She thought she was done with this, the guilt, and fear and loneliness. The way it weighed her body down like an unchained anchor; sinking with no hope of recovery. The way it tugged down the corners of her mouth and hooked the eyelids open in fear. A straightjacket of apathy and rage.

She knows she could have done better to convince them she was fine. She had to start with. But she didn't have the energy to keep up with the way she'd been before, to keep quipping and making stupid jokes.

Three hours of sleep in a linear fortnight isn't good, even for a time lord.

It's clearly gotten bad again. She'll pop by the infirmary in a minute, find something in the cupboards that'll replace any sleep she should have had. That total isn't likely to increase tonight, and there's nothing that can let her sleep. ~~Not anymore~~.

In a minute though. Her limbs won't comply. Her mind won't either. Far too many years of memories. She can't run forever. She can't.

She will.

She can't stop now. Even stopping a minute like she is here hurts. Everything's going to crash on her head, if she's not careful. Her fam don't deserve that. The Master's already planted doubts in their minds. She can't let them see.

The lights are dim, which means at least half of the crew are asleep. The ache in her body gives the impression she's been lost in her thoughts a while.

Her TARDIS is covered in deep blue. She didn't notice. It hums gently at her, a plea to let them in. She never was as compassionate.

She checks on them, though, sees the tear tracks down Yas and Ryan's faces as they sleep. Finds Graham asleep against the wall, cup of tea cold on the table. It'll be a fitful sleep. She knows how this bit works.

She sits in the console room, where the hologram had been. Where she'd sat when everything fell around her.

She doesn't sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit after the episode came out, but I sorta forgot I’d written it. Anyways, hope you enjoyed.
> 
> The quote is from War Photographer by Carol Ann Duffy
> 
> Stay safe, heathens


End file.
